It Never Stays In Vegas
by misskieraaa
Summary: "Gambling, getting drunk... What could be a better form of TLC? But the one thing he promised to himself was that he wouldn't get messed up with any sort of woman.That was more trouble than he needed." M for future chapters...


"_**There's no reason to become alarmed, and we hope you'll enjoy the rest of your flight. By the way, is there anyone on board who knows how to fly a plane?"**_

_**-Airplane**_

* * *

"Will you shut the fuck up?" The angry voice of Santana's neighbour yelled from the next apartment, obviously pissed off that it was two in the morning, and Rachel was still alternating between sobbing, wailing and screaming.

She grabbed the pillow and pressed it to her mouth, drenching it in minutes. But the relentless tears didn't stop.

It wasn't like she cared though.

She was hurt, distraught, angry, _heartbroken. _

The stupid thing was, she was ridiculously happy before _it _all kicked off.

_Humming under her breath, Rachel exited the theatre lobby happily. In less than three months, she would be playing Elphaba in the glorious Broadway rendition of her favourite play, _Wicked.

_Plus, she had the most amazing, gorgeous, kind-hearted loving fiancé as well. They had set their wedding date to be on the 26th July, five weeks after _Wicked _was set to finish. _

_Rachel slipped on her sunglasses as she speed-walked down the street, eager to get home to her and Jesse's apartment. It was his 23rd birthday after all. _

_A beeping sound drew Rachel to her purse as her phone indicated a text. Quickly, she fished it out and read it._

_**Everything's set. Bring the cute little butt of yours home so we can get this party started... Even if it is for an asshole.**_

_Rachel rolled her eyes at her best friend's text, tapping a reply instantly._

_**Thanks, Santana. Means a lot.**_

_Santana had never like Jesse, not from day one. She often told Rachel about how he treated her, but she always turned a deaf ear onto the Latina and changed the subject somewhat quickly._

_A small, self-satisfied smile graced Rachel's face as she picked up the pace to Jesse's office. He owned a big magazine company called _Quilla_. A female magazine that noted all the latest celebrity gossip, and fashion. Every once in a while, Rachel would write an article about Broadway, but Jesse wouldn't print it very often - for some reason anyway. _

_Rachel and Jesse had met at the magazine's opening party. Sure, Santana had forced Rachel into an obnoxiously short and revealing dress, along with far too high heels, but that seemed to have done the trick. The Latina seemed to regret it after she saw who Rachel had pulled._

_The large building came into view as Rachel rounded the corner. She smiled at the doorman who opened the door with a good natured wink, as she jogged to hold the elevator. She knew this building like the back of her hand, often coming in to bring Jesse his lunch... Then being sent away again..._

_Jesse's office was the entire 68th floor, which was the highest level. Annoying music blared softly from speakers as she sighed irratibly, changing from foot to foot as her heels quickly became uncomfortable. Her fiancé always insisted Rachel wear heels to benefit from her "ridiculous height problem" as he so crudely put it. To please him, Rachel complied, but she must admit, it was really doing some damage to her feet. She had tried to point this out to Jesse but he just said she should be grateful for the designer shoes he always bought her, quit winging and just wear them. _

_At last, the elevator dinged, as well as a smooth feminine voice saying, "68th floor, Jesse St James's office."_

_She walked confidently to the glass door before knocking three times. Jesse's secretary, Lisa, a tall, pale woman with long black hair opened the door, with a polite being as normal._

_"Good afternoon, Miss Berry," she said with a smile, returning to her large desk and computer._

_"Lisa," Rachel said sternly, yet softening with a smile, "how many times must I ask you to call me Rachel?"_

_"Right..." Lisa giggled nervously, writing on a yellow post-it and sticking it to the rim of her monitor._

_"Anyway," Rachel sighed, "have you seen Jesse?"_

_"He should be in his office, Miss B-" she was cut of by Rachel's stern look, "Rachel." Lisa finished with a bashful smile._

_"Thanks!" _

_She walked briskly through Jesse's imported mirror doors and heaved the stupidly heavy things open. _

_He was sitting there (adorably) typing furiously on his computer. His crisp, English Jack Wills sky blue shirt complimented his light pink Armani tie perfectly, along with his simple black, slacks. _

_"Hey, babe," Rachel beamed, walking over to his desk and leaning over it. Jesse looked up and gave Rachel a small smile that didn't quite reach his unusual cold eyes._

_"Are you okay?" Rachel asked, standing up fully with a crease between her brows. She was no stranger to Jesse's abrupt and lethal dramatic mood swings._

_"I'm fine," he muttered, not looking up from his computer screen, "I'm just really busy. Go home and I'll meet you there in an hour."_

_A frown formed on Rachel's face as she hitched her purse up her shoulder. She turned and stalked out, giving Lisa a fleeting smile as she slipped into the full elevator._

_Hailing a cab, Rachel slipped into it, watching Manhattan fly by the window. She sighed, leaning her elbow on the window ledge and resting her hand on her open palm._

_What was with him today? But, now that she thought about it, Jesse had been off for a few weeks. He hardly touched her anymore, and when he did, it was purely for publicity reasons. They hadn't been intimate for ages. _

_But, Rachel decided, it was probably just the stress of owning a massive magazine company. It was common knowledge to Rachel that _Quilla _sold over thirty-million copies every issue released in all of America. Add on Europe, and that's a lot of copies. _

_Soon enough, she arrived back at her and Jesse's penthouse apartment, beaming at the sight before her._

_Streamers, banners and balloons decorated all the walls, along with a huge, pale blue sign that said '**Happy Birthday, Jesse!**' A long table covered in a sparkling silver cloth was adorned with food, platters, tall glasses of champagne and a large two tiered cake standing as the centre piece._

_"Oh, Santana!" Rachel cried, just as the Latina came from the kitchen, "it looks amazing!"_

_"Yes, well," Santana chuckled, "I do have a way with decorating." The two hugged and laughed together. _

_Once they pulled apart, Rachel turned on the radio, her hips instantly swaying from side to side with the beat. "He'll be here in an hour which means the guests will be arriving in half that time. Which **means **we only have about twenty minutes to get dressed."_

_Rachel bit her lip, practically running into the huge master bedroom which led to the walk-in wardrobe. Quickly, she pulled out the large clothing bag containing her dress. She stripped her underwear, putting on a black strapless bra and matching panties. The dress was a violet strapless one, with a thick black belt sinching her waist. The short skirt fell in pools, ending at her lower thigh. _

_Rachel left her clothes on the floor, they could be sorted out tomorrow. She skidded into the bathroom, hurriedly applying a light layer of make-up. Her hair was bouncing in curls on her shoulders, which looked nice enough. The curling iron was quickly plugged in which added some volume, completing her look just fine. She finished her outfit with some black, peep-toe stilettos._

_The door was just being opened by Santana when she walked in. Tina and her boyfriend Mike walked in, placing the gift on the table next to the door._

_"Hey, guys," Rachel smiled breathlessly, "help yourselves to whatever."_

_The guests slowly dribbled in after the two Asians, until the apartment was packed. Brittany, Santana's girlfriend, was last to arrive. She apologised profusely for being so close to the nick of time, seeing as though it was now 6:55, and Jesse was due at 7:00. _

_"Alright, everyone!" Rachel yelled, smiling softly to herself at the instant silence, "I'm going to meet Jesse at the elevator. When I open the door I want you to switch on the light and yell 'surprise', right?"_

_"Oh, so **that's **how a surprise party works. Thank you! I had no idea." Santana said sarcastically, earning a few chuckles._

_"Yes, well," Rachel replied after pursing her lips at her best friend, "I'm going to go now." She flicked the light off and exited the apartment, inwardly buzzing with excitement. _

_Within the next five minutes, at a few minutes past seven, the elevator dinged and a very tired and disgruntled Jesse exited. "Hey!" Rachel chimed, walking over and pressing a kiss to his unresponsive lips. She frowned, but quickly changed it back into a smile thanks to her amazing acting skills._

_"Rachel..." Jesse sighed, resisting his fiancée who was currently dragging him by the hand to their apartment._

_"Yes, hon?" Rachel asked nonchalantly, her voice quivering a little from the excitement that coursed through her veins._

_"We need to talk." He replied tersely, stopping outside their front door, his face set in unreadable lines._

_"Can't we talk inside?" She asked, her hand firmly on the door handle._

_"No," Jesse said flatly, jumping straight to the point, "I'm leaving you." He ignored Rachel's shell-shocked silence, cocking his head to the side a little bit, pursing his lips to the left as though he was thinking, "Well, technically, you'll be the one leaving me since it's my apartment."_

_Tears swelled into Rachel's eyes as she watched him raise his perfectly shaped eyebrows in a bored manor, "But... But-" _

_"But nothing, Rachel." Jesse said sternly, "I want you gone tonight."_

_"But... **Why?**" She stressed, a single tear trailing down her cheek._

_"I'm incredibly wealthy, handsome and loveable. Why would I want you?" He sneered._

_"I've finally realised, with the help of my parents that you are so far below me and my standards. What I was doing with you in the first place, I'll never know."_

_Sylvia and Jackson St James had always viewed Rachel as though she was something nasty Sylvia had just stepped on in her vintage Prada shoe. Never had they thought her worthy of their precious Jesse. And they made sure she knew on multiple occasions._

_Rachel hung her head, her dark hair covering her face like a veil. Jesse finished, "Just pack up some clothes and go crash somewhere, I don't really care."_

_Oblivious to what was waiting for him, Jesse yanked the door open. The light instantly flickered on, revealing the shocked crowd of family and friends._

_"Surprise." Santana said flatly, a cold look etched onto her beautiful face as she placed a hand on her curved hip._

_"Shit..." Jesse sighed, looking at Rachel who had shoved past him and ran into the bedroom, a loud bang accompying the door slamming closed. _

_Jesse stood there, his mouth hanging open as he gazed around his apartment. "Alright everyone, party over," Santana said, "just clear off, I'll take care of Rachel. But **you**..." She narrowed her dark eyes at Jesse, who had tried to sneak away with the rest of the crowd. Santana pointed a deadly finger towards him, "Stay. There."_

_He did as he was told, never having been a fan of his ex-fiancée's best friend. She scared him to be frankly honest. Sadly, he watched on with mournful eyes as the party guests trapsised from the room, all of them giving him hateful glares or ignoring him completely. They even picked up the cards and gifts they had brought on their way out._

_"How dare you?" The Latina hissed after the last guest had left, "do you know how much she adores you?" Santana sneered, obviously wondering why anyone would devote to such a douche-bag._

_"Yes, well," Jesse sneered right back, "who wouldn't? Anyway, she was just an insecure, desperate, gold-digging little whore-"_

_He was stopped mid-sentence as Santana had struck like a viper. Her hand seared across Jesse's cheek, sounding like a lightening bolt had coursed through the front room. Breathing heavily, Santana looked coldly to him, who had somehow ended up on the floor._

_"You crazy bitch!" He screamed, scrambling up as best as possible with keeping one hand firmly pressed to his bright red cheek._

_"Oh, please," Santana scoffed, waving her hand down, "stop with the compliments." _

_A strangled cry emitted from Jesse's throat as he ran to the door, throwing it open easily, "I want her gone by morning." And then he was gone. _

_Santana sighed harshly, wincing as she realised how much her hand stung. She wiped it on the skirt of her dress, turning to the bedroom and nearly breaking at the sight._

_Rachel was laying face down on the bed, crying her heart out desperately as Brittany stroked her back lightly. Santana came over and sat on Rachel's other side, placing her hand on the back of her head. She met her girlfriend's gaze sadly before speaking softly._

_"Shh, Bebé..."_

_She received a harsh sob in reply, along with a row of indeciphrable words._

_"He was just a jackass anyway," Santana whispered softly, only ever showing this side of her to her closest and dearest. Therefore, very few._

_"Totally," Brittany agreed with a rueful smile. Rachel sat up, tears streaming down her pale cheeks from her red and blotty eyes._

_"C-c-can I st-stay with you g-g-gu-guys ton-n-ight?" She hiccupped resting her head on her best friend's shoulder._

_"Of course you can," Brittany answered, taking Rachel's hand, "you don't even need to ask. We'll get your things ready for you." She finished in a whisper._

_Rachel nodded dumbly, watching as her two friends slowly stood up and started to her wardrobe. "Wait!" Rachel yelled, Santana and Brittany halting to an instant stop, "I don't want anything over expensive or designer." She said defiantly._

_Santana nodded with a smile, turning into the walk-in fully as Rachel sat there numbly._

_Three years they had been together. Three whole years wasted. Now she thought about it, Jesse never really loved her. Not at all. She was his arm holder, lunch bringer, sex partner, house cleaner, and it ended there. Sure, he had showered her with expensive gifts, but now Rachel realises they were just to stop her becoming suspicious. God! She was so naïve. _

_"Rachel?" Came Santana's worried voice. _

_"Huh?" She said stupidly, her unfocused gaze meeting the concerned one of her best friend. She blushed mildly seeing as though she had just zoned out for the best part of ten minutes._

_"I'm fine... I just need to get out of here." She stood up woodenly, leaving the two to finish her packing. Rachel stepped into the kitchen, looking at it's pristine whiteness and gleaming surfaces. Scowling, Rachel stomped over to the wine fridge and pulled out Jesse's most expensive bottle. Without thinking, she threw it to the floor, watching as the contents splashed in all directions in a big tidal wave and the shards of glass flew all over._

_Breathing heavily, Rachel smiled a little, feeling somewhat better. Santana and Brittany rushed in, their mouths forming into identical grins as they set the two suitcases on the table. All together, they took another bottle of the staining red wine. _

_Brittany shook hers up and sprayed it across all the surfaces and walls, covering them in the deep crimson liquid. Santana and Rachel took theirs into the spotless sitting room. Giving each other an evil grin, they spilled the entire bottles onto every single service they could lay there hands on. _

_"Let's get out of here," Rachel smiled, picking up both suitcases and walking out, leaving without a single glance bag at the wine covered apartment that held so many bad memories._

And that's how she ended up in Santana and Brittany's spare room, promptly sobbing her heart out. She knew she wasn't being fair to the two, but she could hardly help it.

She rolled on her back, the mattress seeming uncomfortable and unfamiliar to the usual top-of-the-range swan feather type she was so used to sleeping on. But of course, she always shared that bed.

The hours ticked by slowly, at one point, Rachel was sure time must have stopped since the clock seemed to be stuck on five AM. But alas, seven AM soon rolled by, revealing the morning Rachel had watched arrive. Around four AM, she had given up trying to sleep, knowing it would never actually come. Instead, she sat back on the bed, head against the wooden headboard and watched the sun rise through the open curtains.

When nine AM came by, Rachel could hear some noise come from Santana and Brittany's room, so she assumed they were awake. Luckily it was a Saturday, so none of them had work. A knock on the door caused her head to snap up, revealing Brittany poking her head round the door with a sympathetic look.

"Did you sleep at all last night?"

Rachel gave a small shake of the head as she threw her stiff legs over the side of the bed and dragged herself into a standing position. She wobbled a little, but soon regained her composture and followed Brittany to the kitchen. A steaming cup of coffee with soy milk in (Santana kept stock of it now since this was Rachel's second home) and brown sugar.

Taking a grateful sip of the hot liquid, Rachel sank into a chair with a small smile. Santana and Brittany sat opposite her, drinking their own coffee's.

"So what's the plan for today?" Rachel asked, pulling her knees to her chest comfortably.

A look was shared between Santana and Brittany that Rachel didn't like. It said that they were going to suggest something they knew she wouldn't like very well.

"Vegas." They said in unison, putting their empty mugs down on the table.

"I'm sorry?" Rachel asked, bewildered, not quite sure she had heard them right. Surely, they couldn't have said _Vegas_.

"You heard us. Vegas." Brittany repeated.

They did.

"I don't understand... What has Las Vegas got to do with anything." Had they lost it or something? What were they expecting her to drop everything and just _leave_?

"It's just what you need!" Santana stressed, sitting up straighter and staring Rachel point blank into the eye. Opening her mouth to respond, Santana cut her off.

"Just let me explain, okay?" Rachel hesitated a second, before giving a tight nod in response.

"Right," Santana started, "well. Me and Britts have been thinking about going for ages, and we thought what better time than now? A few days, no penises allowed. Sadly, Brittany won't be able to go when we leave this evening since she has a dance video to choreograph. But all the same, the room's only a double anyways-"

"_Whoa! _Slow down!" Rachel said, forcing herself to frown angrily, "you mean to tell me, you went behind my back, booked a holiday without my consent to-to _Vegas _of all places and just expect me to be _fine _with it?"

Santana and Brittany both stammered a second, paling a few shades, "it...it's just that-" she was cut of, however, by a huge hug from her best friend and squeals of "thank you! Thank you!"

It was spontanious, unexpected and so, _so _stupid. But... Maybe that's just what she needs. To persue the unexpected and let her hair down a little.

The three of them laughed, hugging and laughing each other at the same time, until Rachel realised a flaw in the plan. "What about work?" She asked quietly, her smile dimming considerably.

"All taken care of," Brittany said with a manic grin, "the director said you needed some time of anyways. So it's all cool."

The next few hours consisted of Rachel and Santana packing, with Brittany nipping to the mall to pick up a few things for the both of them.

When Brittany arrived back with several bags up her arms, she produced the two plane tickets from her purse, slipping them into Santana's purse, along with both her's and Rachel's passports.

"Rachel," Brittany said, "I've bought you some stuff you wouldn't normally go with, but I want you to, okay? Just for the short time."

"Okay." Rachel breathed, feeling more than a little nervous of what the blond had uncerimoniously dumped into her suitcase.

When the cab arrived outside the apartment block, Rachel thanked Brittany and took her suitcase to the yellow car, leaving the two for a private good-bye.

Two minutes later when Santana arrived, they sped of to JFK airport, each buzzing about the upcoming fun. No boys. Just two girls, having some fun.

Everything went smoothly from then on, boarding the plane without a hitch.

As soon as the plane was airborne and the seatbelt light had flicked off, Rachel was fast asleep, any certain ex-fiancé far from her mind as she left behind the bright lights of New York city... Even if it is only for a few days...

* * *

"Dude, I can't believe you got fired _again. _And by your own step-dad as well!" Puck burst into hysterical laughter, almost dropping his hot dog onto the side walk.

Finn simply glared at his wingman, choosing to stay silent and stuff more of the mustard and onion covered sausage into his mouth, wiping the his mouth roughly with the back of his hand.

The sad thing was, Puck was right. He _had _just got fired... By his own step-dad. It wasn't as though he was bad at the job; on the contrary, he was very good. Fixing cars at Burt's garage was something Finn was awesome at it. He even had regulars that always requested Finn to do whatever they needed doing. The problem was, Finn was a _bit _of a slacker.

Make that a lot.

Sure, when he got his hands greasy and oily and he got proper into it, he was in his game. But it always took a while. Finn was forever on his phone, listening to the scratchy radio delivering the latest sport news, or dragging Puck's lazy ass round to talk about whatever with a couple of beers.

Finally, Burt had had enough and had said to him that when Finn sorted his attitude out and "acts like a man" he'll be welcomed back with open arms. But until then, he better piss off.

To top the shit-fest of, his long-term girlfriend had just split up with him. Finn and Quinn had been together for four years when she suddenly ended it. It came from nowhere. One second they were making out on the couch like teenagers, and the next, she's stood up yelling at him. Apparently, he doesn't give enough time and attention to her which is total bullshit. Whenever he was doing something and she asked him to run an errand for her, or hang out or whatever, he would. He would drop whatever he was doing and do it. Pretty stupid on his part.

With an almighty sneer on her cold, beautiful face she admitted without regret that she had been cheating on him for the past six months on some blonde body-builder she met at the gym. According to her, they're "perfect for each other". Barf.

Puck had always warned him of the Ice Queen.

The two rounded the corner into their favourite sports bar, and quickly found a table in the packed room. A waitress quickly appeared, taking their order of two bears and a supreme nachos with extra hot sauce.

Puck's phone began to ring, and with a check of the caller ID, he answered it. "Hey, man."

"Are you kidding me?"

"Aw, come on dude, drop the bitch."

"I know she's eight months pregnant."

Finn rolled his eyes, as he took a sip of the refreshing Fosters.

"Fine," Puck said defiantly, "but you ain't getting your money back. Bye." He ended the call, slamming his phone onto the table harshly.

"What's going on?" Finn asked cautiously, removing a nacho from the steaming pile that had just been placed there, lifting it high to free it of the stringy melted cheese.

"Jimmy can't come to Vegas. He tells me _tonight. _We were due to go _tonight._" Puck fumed, taking a hand full of nachos and stuffing them angrily into his mouth, and taking a long draft of beer afterwards.

"Jimmy your cousin?" Finn asked, tipping an eyebrow. He vaguely remembered meeting all of Puck's cousins at Puck's little sister's party. Finn was sure that Jimmy was about the same age as him at the time and was pretty cool.

"Yeah," Puck sighed, "and now I have a spare, all inclusive ticket for a three day holiday in Vegas. We planned it _ages _ago; before his bitch got up the duff ."

Finn shrugged, "Sucks for you." He turned his attention to the big screen, watching as the Mets scored a home-run. Finn smiled, he had always been a big Mets fan since a little boy. So was Burt, so when his mom re-married, they at least had something in common.

Continuing to grumble, Puck's gaze swept across the bar, lingering on some waitresses every now and again but soon enough, his shoulders slumped defeated. But then his hazel eyes lit up, as though something had lightened behind them; almost a light bulb. Slowly, he twisted his head to stare at his best friend since like, forever.

"What do you say, Hudson?"

Finn had never really thought of Vegas. He'd never really been one for gambling and the likes, but who knows?

He shrugged, maybe a short stay at the gambling capital of the world could do him some good.

"I'm game." He grinned.

They both chugged the rest of their beers, polishing off the nachos no problem either, and in no time at all, they were high-tailing it back to their apartments.

"I'll bring a cab round in half an hour, Hudson. You best be ready."

Finn rolled his eyes, taking a different turning to Puck to get to his apartment.

It didn't take him long to pack his old gym bag, seeing as though it was a big one. He just threw anything and everything in, hardly taking notice.

As soon as he zipped up the bag and had his passport and phone in the side pocket, a horn of the cab caused him to run down the stairs. Finn threw his bag into the boot and hopped in.

They arrived at JFK with half an hour to spare. To actually make the flight, they sped through customs and were soon boarding the flight.

Gambling, getting drunk... What could be a better form of TLC? But the one thing he promised to himself was that he wouldn't get messed up with any sort of woman.

That was more trouble than he needed.

* * *

**_I've always loved the film _What Happens In Vegas, _so I couldn't help but do a Finchel version._**

_**I have a problem with writing long chapters, so I'll do my best...**_


End file.
